


The Stars Came Falling

by klainjel



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klainjel/pseuds/klainjel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elves and humans, by law, are split; separate creatures living separate lives. The elves dwell in the protection of the forest while the humans conquer the rest of the land.</p>
<p>Blaine and Kurt, by law, were never supposed to meet.</p>
<p><i>Destiny:</i> something that was going to happen anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars Came Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Samson by Regina Spektor
> 
> Tumblr Link 

The thudding of rain flooded Kurt’s ears. The dirt slopped into mud and wet his lips. His sight had faded to nothing more than a watered-down image. His feet had forgotten how to move and his head swung from thoughts to nothingness so quickly that it startled him. Kurt felt cold.

But then warm arms were around him, and suddenly, Kurt felt home.

~~

He didn’t remember the next day and he refused to remember the day before. What he did remember was the smell of bread, wooden walls, amber eyes, and falling back into darkness.

~~

The next time he woke, a blurry figure was wandering around, glowing from the light of the fire. Kurt was warm and his body ached, and the blanket smelled like mint and wood. He pulled it up around his nose and he must have let out a soft hum because the body turned and Kurt could have sworn that it glowed.

“Good evening,” the voice greeted, sounding like smooth honey. Kurt heard footsteps draw closer and his eyes blinked shut again. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? You’ve been out a long time.”

A raspy voice spoke, and Kurt was surprised when he realized that it was his own. “W-water…”

The body was shifting, moving too rapidly, and Kurt soon felt a cold glass against his lips.

The cup was gently removed from his lips and Kurt’s sight seemed to return. He blinked once, twice, and stared up at the stranger who led him here.

The man was young, maybe younger than Kurt, with a youthful glow in his eyes but adult angles to his face. His lips were plump and pink, slightly parted in what could only be curiosity. There was a dark shadow on his cheeks that Kurt soon realized was a brush of facial hair. Three curls settled across his damp forehead and the man pushed them aside with the back of his wrist. It was the eyes that captured Kurt, a warm brown that reminded him at once of the trees at twilight and of freshly made bread.

It was overwhelming.

Kurt shut his eyes again, too tired to deal with today. But he had questions, far too many, with far too little answers.

“I can run a bath for you,” the man said, “if you’re cold. You shouldn’t be, I’ve kept the fire running, but I’m not sure how long you were in the rain.”

Rain. Mud. Betrayal. Pain. Loneliness, loneliness, and warm arms….

Kurt’s eyes flashed open. “Was it you?” he croaked. Kurt reached for the water, and it was passed to him without hesitation.

“Me?”

“Who found me.”

The man took the cup back when it was empty and he refilled. Kurt drank. “It was.”

Kurt nodded before sitting, his hands gripping onto his thighs as the room spun. It looked cozy, seemed cozy, but appearances are deceptive, Kurt knew this well. “I have to go.” He swung his legs over the bed, but the man reached out, a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. Electricity pulsed through him. “Woah! Where do you think you’re going?”

“I must… I must go. You don’t know—you don’t know me or what’s—You’re a stranger!” Kurt struggled against the hand, but it didn’t budge.

“Blaine.”

“Pardon?!”

“My name is Blaine.” Kurt’s eyes met the man’s—Blaine’s—and he was surprised by the gentleness he found there. No bitter resentment. No selfishness. No cold stare which could only mean he was sizing Kurt up and deciding how to benefit the most. His kindness was almost unsettling. “Now we’re not strangers anymore!”

Kurt didn’t know if it was the bright smile on his lips, showing his perfectly cut teeth, or the spark in his eyes, or the excitement in his voice, but Kurt slowly laid himself back down.

“Kurt,” he found himself saying. “I’m Kurt.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kurt.” Blaine’s smile should have been painful, too happy and sunny, but it wasn’t. Kurt’s lips twitched upwards and he gave his best attempt. Blaine laughed, but not unkindly. His voice sounded like summer’s bells. “Let me get you something to eat.”

Every instinct in Kurt was telling him to flee. He was never one to trust without reason, and there didn’t seem to be one. This Blaine was an unknown variable, unpredictable, and Kurt had always done his best to predict and protect. But Blaine claimed to be the one who uprooted him from the mud. Blaine could have left him, turned his back against him, ignoring his eyes, and fled. He could have done what Kurt wanted to do. But he didn’t.

Every instinct was telling Kurt to flee except the one that matters most.

Kurt nodded, acquiescing, and Blaine smiled again before turning his back.  Kurt watched the muscles move, lock, and release. They moved well under his brown tunic, a casual cotton fabric that was more broad in the shoulders and cinched in at the waist. Kurt had always appreciated well-made clothes, and he had always made sure his own fit him in such a way to hide the worst and accentuate the best.

Blaine’s body spun back to Kurt and placed a bowl of steaming soup beside the bed, on a table Kurt hadn’t noticed was there before. Blaine held a bowl of his own and he turned a chair from the small table set to face the bed. Kurt sat up, forcing his curious gaze to stay down, and he placed the warm bowl on his thighs.

Blaine didn’t ask the obvious questions. Instead, he let Kurt.

“Do you live alone?”

“Yes.”

“In the forest?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Blaine paused, blew on his soup, took a bite, and resumed. “I like the serenity of nature. I like being close to it. My people live in the forest, naturally, but I live alone because no one wants to live with me.” He said it simply, a fact, not an emotion.

“No one wants to live with me either.” A lie, but one Kurt wished were true. His problems had happened because too many wanted to live with him.

Blaine nodded and resumed eating.

It was then, with Blaine’s head tipped down, that Kurt noticed it. Something simple, yet distinctive. Something he should have noticed right away. Blaine’s ears did not curl up and inwards, resulting in a rounded top. Blaine’s ears were triangular in shape, rising to a pointed peak.

“You’re an elf.” Kurt’s voice was flat and seemed too hard in the warmth of the cabin room. Kurt watched as the pointed tips of Blaine’s ears turned red.

“I—yes. Is that an issue?”

Blaine’s face was too open, and Kurt could read it to an uncomfortable degree. He looked awkward, shy, embarrassed, and hopeful. The expression made his youthful countenance so beautiful that it ached. Kurt felt a pang in his chest that he forced back because no, Blaine was right. This should be an issue, even if he desperately wished it weren’t. This man is kind. His race shouldn’t matter. But race does.

“No,” Kurt answered after a lengthy pause.

“Okay.”

They resumed eating, the corners of their mouths secretly tipped upwards.

~~~

Once, elves and humans were friends. More like sisters and brothers than anything. They worked together, played together. There are even stories of courtship and marriage. Elves and humans shared the land; they shared life.

But like all siblings, they soon came tumbling into rivalries.

Dangerous rebellions and battles over petty things. The elves protected nature. The humans destroyed all to build. They couldn’t agree. They couldn’t live together. So their one world was soon split apart.

~~

Kurt slept.

He didn’t realize until the morning, with an empty bowl and full glass on the table beside him, that he had stolen Blaine’s bed. Blaine was curled up on the ground, a blanket tugged tightly over his compacted body. Kurt watched Blaine sleep until he became aware of what he was doing. Then, Kurt stood.

The world spun for a moment before all straightened again. Kurt took a deep breath and tip toed around the elfish body. The door was beside the kitchen, and the kitchen straight across from the bed. Kurt made his way over, creaked open the door, and left.

The cool outdoors air hit his skin and Kurt inhaled, letting the morning sunlight fill his lungs. He already felt stronger. He looked around, but didn’t recognize where he was. The blanket of leaves was crisp beneath his feet and the temperature was a comfortable cool. A few steps back informed him that Blaine, as it turned out, lived in a trunk of a tree.

Kurt found what we came out for: a little outhouse, small and hidden, next to the tree in which the elf lived. Kurt relieved himself and exited quickly, for although it didn’t smell, it was damp from the morning air.

Blaine stood in the doorway to his house, peering out into the forest. His head snapped over to Kurt, and a smile broke across his face when he spotted him. The pang pumped in Kurt’s chest again, and he smiled back, stepping across the leaves to the elf. “Good morning.”

“Morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. Mmm… oh goodness. Is that bacon?!”

Blaine smiled shyly yet proudly. “It is indeed.”

The food might have been the best Kurt ever had. Perhaps it was because he was hungry, or perhaps it was because Blaine had magic in his blood. Either way, Kurt unbashfully helped himself to seconds and thirds.

Kurt insisted he help with the dishes, and Blaine eventually relented. They worked silently, until Blaine began to sing. His voice sounded like syrup, dripping down Kurt’s heart slowly and coating it completely. It was beautiful. Kurt almost didn’t want to join in, but Blaine’s voice had coaxed Kurt, and he was singing before he knew it. If it was even possible, their harmonies sounded even better than their voices did apart.

~~

For some reason, Kurt stayed.

Maybe it was the delicious food Blaine kept insisting on making. Maybe it was the forest air that warms throughout the day. Maybe it was the sound of birds chirping, or maybe it was Blaine’s laugh that Kurt liked best. Maybe it was the way Blaine looked at him, questioning yet soft, not forcing any assumptions or answers onto Kurt. Maybe it was because Blaine didn’t know who Kurt was. Maybe it was because Kurt couldn’t get enough of the way Blaine’s smile warmed his cheeks and chest.

On the third night, Kurt made a stand.

“Blaine, there is no way—“

“But Kurt—“

“No ‘but Kurt’-ing me. Blaine, I—“

“No, you have to—“

“Blaine.”

“I insist—“

“Blaine. You’re sleeping in your bed.”

Blaine’s cheeks and ears flushed in that way that made Kurt want to kiss the tips. “I can’t make you sleep on the floor.”

“Who says I’m sleeping on the floor?” The blush spread and a satisfied smirk settled on Kurt’s lips. This was much more fun than he imagined.

Blaine’s face furrowed in confusion, crinkling between his eyebrows in a way that could only be described as adorable. The realization that dawned on Blaine's face, his eyes widening and his face relaxing, was just as adorable. “Do you mean---?”

Kurt sat down on the bed and ran his hand over the smooth fabric, smiling at Blaine, before tapping the bedding once with his hand. Blaine took a reluctant step forward. Kurt slipped under the covers and tapped again. Blaine stared at Kurt for a moment, for two… before he climbed in after him.

They lay face to face, the bed too small for two by law, but it seemed to fit them perfectly. Kurt could feel Blaine’s warm breath brush his face, and Blaine could hear Kurt’s heartbeat.

“This is…”

“Yeah. Nice.”

Blaine’s eyes ran through Kurt’s. Kurt’s eyes dashed over Blaine’s face. Their lips didn’t meet, but when Kurt closed his eyes and Blaine closed his, they both imagined that they did.

~~~

The thing about Blaine was that he _listened._ He didn’t do so artificially, hearing the words but not what Kurt was saying. Blaine watched Kurt when he spoke, his eyes burning into Kurt’s in a way that, for the first few days, had made him blush. Now Kurt craved that hard, intimate gaze. Blaine always remained quiet for a beat after Kurt speaks, digesting what he was saying. When Blaine responded, he spoke from the heart, and knew exactly what to say.

They talked about everything, except where Kurt’s from.

Kurt enjoyed best Blaine’s stories of his childhood, growing up among the elves. He spoke freely, a mischievous glint in his eyes every time he informed Kurt that what he was telling him was one of the “secrets of the elves. It’s of upmost secrecy, and I am sworn not to tell anyone. But I’ll tell you.”

Kurt, too, told stories of his adventures, his people from home, like Rachel, who worked in the kitchens and never stopped singing (“you’d get along well with her,” Kurt teased, which Blaine responded to by throwing a bunch of leaves at him), or Finn, the stable boy who was afraid of horses (“How can one be afraid of horses?” Blaine had scoffed. “They’re the most gentle of creatures.”). Kurt let it slip once or twice about where he’s from, and he was sure Blaine knew, but he never pushed him. Kurt liked that about him.

In fact, Kurt liked a lot about him.

When they’re pushed up in bed together, Blaine’s warm, small body spooned up perfect in front, Kurt realizes he likes a lot more of him than he should.

~~

It only made sense that Blaine made dinner, because it was Blaine’s kitchen and Kurt, as reluctant as he was to admit it, was still a guest.

Blaine could name every flower, every mushroom, every herb. He talked about the plants vibrantly, informing Kurt on which to eat and which never to touch. He told Kurt medicinal purposes, what they tasted like, how they changed from spring into summer. He told Kurt that bluebells and wild daisies were his favorite, and Kurt learned that he preferred black eyed susans, white laurels, and chicories over the roses and peonies he was used to.

Flowers weren’t the only thing Kurt preferred.

Blaine’s food was full of spices, but it was never spicy. The food had flavour; it told a story. Every night, Kurt had the freshest bread, baked with dill or rosemary. He had soups packed with vegetables, or the most tender rabbit he had ever had. Blaine didn’t eat meat often, but when he cooked it, he made sure to bless the animal, thank it for their harvest, and wish its spirit off. Kurt asked him why he cooked meat if he had to go through such a fuss. Blaine shrugged. “Because you like it.”

The best part of Blaine’s food, however, was how Blaine made it with care, and he made it with Kurt. At first, Blaine kept shooing Kurt away from the kitchen, insisting that he cooked for Kurt. But Kurt’s stubbornness made an appearance, and he crossed his arms over his chest after a week of Blaine’s insisting.

“Let me help.”

“Kurt, no. You’re my guest, I—“

“You must be getting tired.”

“Kurt…”

Kurt took the knife from the elf’s hands and began to dice the carrot. “I’m not incompetent.”

If Kurt had glanced up, he would have seen Blaine’s soft eyes and fond smile. “I know.”

So they cooked together. The two men worked quietly, each preparing what appeared to be separate meals. Only in the last moments before serving would Kurt pass Blaine the salad, which he would roast and place under rabbit. Or the potatoes would meet the asparagus. Or the herb melody would be rubbed onto sweet yams. The two meals collided, and elevated the food into something beyond anything Kurt or Blaine could have done on their own.

One evening when Blaine was out gathering wood, Kurt decided to get dinner started on his own. He searched the kitchen before pulling out ingredients, most of which were unfamiliar to most humans, but had become comforting and known to Kurt. What he set on the table didn’t look like ingredients for a cake-- no milk or eggs, just their elven substitutes Blaine had shown to Kurt—but Kurt was determined to transform them into one.

So he worked. Wheat flour settled on his cheeks and nose, fresh honey nestling on his finger pads. He added strawberry peppermint, lemon zest, and at last, a swirling of cinnamon. He set it in the oven, and removed it just in time for Blaine to walk through the door.

The elf’s eyes widened as his nose lead him to the cake, and Kurt standing there with a triumphant grin. “What’s this?” he asked with a smile, stepping forward.

“You’re reward.”

“My what?”

Kurt stepped closer, their bodies only inches apart now. “You found the damsel in distress. This is your reward.”

If you asked Kurt, the twinkling laugh that filled the air was far more delicious than the cake.

~~

Blaine’s favorite spot in the world was the field half a mile from his cottage. It was his secret place where he went to recharge and feel free. A brush of trees surrounded it, making the outsides dark, but the middle was sunny and full of hundreds of different flowers (Blaine could proudly name them all, and did frequently).

Ever since his brother left him for “the other side, where the grass is greener!” and his parents had died, this field had been the only place that truly screamed home. His cottage was nice, warm and cozy, but it reminded him of the room in his father’s house, which looked the same but felt cool and cold. The cottage was nice, but it was too similar to where he had lived with Cooper, before Cooper decided he was old enough to live on his own. Blaine loved his cottage, but the field whispered to him, hummed his name. The wildflowers surrounded him, protecting him from the hurt and pain. The sky blanketed him, giving him comfort and serenity. The field was where his spirit went when there was nowhere else to go.

“What is this place?” Kurt had asked in an astonished whisper as Blaine removed his hands from over the man’s eyes. Blaine had been practically bouncing as he jumped in front of Kurt, a grin on his face.

“Welcome home.”

For a long time, Blaine had thought the field was a lone home for one, but he soon discovered that it was truly built for two.

“Yellow suits your skin tone,” Kurt commented, holding a yellow flower up beside Blaine’s eye (a black eyed susan, Kurt’s favourite, Blaine reminded himself). “Gold would be closer, but I’ll take what I can get. I wonder if pink…” Kurt trailed off, searching the flowers around where they sat.

Blaine giggled and turned his eyes back to where they quickly and nimbly twisted with the flowers. “I like blue with you.”

“That’s just because blue’s your favorite colour. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

His fingers kept working as a smile graced Blaine’s lips, and he picked a few more flowers when Kurt wasn’t looking. As soon as Kurt turned back to him, his fingers stopped and his amber eyes looked up again.

“Pink!” Kurt declared before holding up a pink primrose. He held it against Blaine’s temple and nodded. “I knew it. Very nice.” Kurt twisted the stems of the black eyed susan and the primrose before tucking it behind Blaine’s ear. “You’re beautiful.”

Kurt had been told elves don’t blush, but that was clearly a lie.

“Here.” Blaine lifted his hand, somewhat shy looking now that a pink tint covered his cheeks, and held out a perfect circle of entwined flowers.

Kurt stared, his lips parting slowly. It was more beautiful than any crown of gold he had ever scene. The flowers were lush, prime in their bloom, and bursting from the circular shape that confined them. There were shades of blue, white, pink, yellow, and there were green leaves that tangled all the shades together. The flowers were evenly placed, with not one section lacking or exceeding. The flowers as valuable as gold, but not nearly as valuable as the elf in whose hand they laid.

“I… for me?” Words lacked Kurt rarely, but he found his mouth dry and his tongue weak.

Blaine nodded with a tiny smile and leaned forward, his chest straining in his light tunic as he placed the crown on Kurt’s head.

Kurt felt richer than the king.

~~

For the most part, Blaine seemed human. His heart beat, his skin warmed to the touch, his eyes glinted, his lips curved, his ass---

For the most part, Blaine seemed human, until he went outdoors. Kurt hadn’t noticed it at first, but it soon became apparent that animals flocked to him. Birds would whistle when he walked by (and, amused, Kurt noticed Blaine always whistled back). Butterflies would dance around his head, deer wouldn’t skip away, and rabbits seem to appear before his eyes. Yes, Blaine loved the animals as much as they loved him.

Blaine explained one night that the animals were his friends and neighbours: he looked after them, so they looked after him. He talked to them (“before you came along, that is”), walked with them, and sometimes even shared his food with them. It saddened Kurt to think that for years they had been Blaine’s only friends, but it warmed his heart so much it might exploded when he thought of how he had changed all that.

That’s why it was no surprised when Kurt came back from a walk and discovered Blaine sitting in the dirt with a bear cub beside him.

Kurt’s first instinct was to scream. Then, promptly, to flee. But then he saw the look on Blaine’s face, filled with joy and wonder, and Kurt began to realize that maybe not everything was as it seemed.

The bear was large, but not overly so, and its fur a warm brown. Blaine’s eyes were locked with its, and the two of them seemed to be speaking a silent language. Slowly, Blaine raised his hand. Kurt gasped when the bear nuzzled it.

The gasp broke the spell and both Blaine and the bear looked over. Blaine grinned, his eyes a melting gold, and the bear nudged Blaine’s hand once before running. “Wasn’t that amazing, Kurt?!”

Kurt shook his head, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he stepped forward and fought against a smile. “You’re something else, Blaine Bear Tamer.”

Blaine laughed and a little bird fluttered between them, zooming around Kurt and landing on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine took a look at the yellow and black bird before his eyes met Kurt’s again. “I prefer Blaine Warbler.”

~~

They were sitting in front of a campfire on a warm night when something shifted between them.

It was a crackle through the air, a snap of heat that mirrored those the fire made. Kurt’s skin cooled, but he stayed warm. He could feel Blaine’s molten gold eyes on him. It was the stare, the way his lips were parting, the way a pink dusting sat on his face, the way his soft curls kissed his forehead. Something had changed.

“You’re the first person I’ve spoken to in a year.” Blaine’s voice broke the night, clear and calm. Kurt looked over. Blaine’s eyes wavered in the fire’s light. “I don’t mean human. I mean…. Everyone.”

Kurt waited.

Blaine began.

“I’ve been different. I’ve always been different. In my youth, I was told I was too playful, too hyper. I preferred to play with the pixies than with other more calm, more cool, elves.

(“There are pixies?!”)

“My mother thought it sweet, but my father didn’t like it. He tried to stop it and I… I let him. It was easier that way. I let him do a lot to me, but I refused to let him take who I love. He didn’t like that. He wanted me to marry a nice girl and I refused. He decided I was no longer his son and I—

(Blaine stopped here, and Kurt waited. When Blaine spoke again, his face was twisted but unlooking at Kurt).

“I left. It was never supposed to be permanent. Mother sent me letters with the pixies. She was always so kind. I lived with Cooper, who wanted to be anything but who he was. I was going to go back. But I never did.”

Blaine’s hands twisted the leaf he held, turning it to ground him, to remind him who he was now.

“Cooper left several years later. He asked if I wanted to follow, but I decided it was better if I didn’t. I never had any friends, Kurt. I never had parents, and my brother left me for something better. He bought me this cottage and went on his way. Life, I had decided, was better when there was no one around. They couldn’t hurt you this way. I’m better off alone.”

The air grew thick and dense, Blaine’s words almost visibly hanging off his lips. Kurt had suspected enough of it, but hearing it explained so much of Blaine that Kurt never could have realized on his own.

“Thank you for telling me this,” Kurt answered, his voice as soft as the flower petals that Blaine had earlier brushed across his skin. He said this, but he meant more than it. He meant thank you for rescuing me, thank you for taking me, thank you for letting me in.

Kurt held out his hand, fingers splayed. Blaine stared, his eyes shifting between Kurt and his hand. His friend was silent while Kurt kept his gaze on Blaine, waiting. Blaine hesitantly held out his hand, and Kurt pressed their palms together. The amount of skin touching was small, but the contact was deep. Warmth blossomed up Blaine’s arm, through his shoulder, down his chest. It was magic of the non-magical kind, the most powerful of all. Of all the things Blaine had taught Kurt, Kurt had taught him the most. For the first time, Blaine realized that he wasn’t alone.

Their eyes and palms connected. They said nothing. It was more than enough.

~~

The warm hearth of Blaine’s home had no heat compared to the warmth in his heart every time he saw Kurt. The warmth of their bodies, pressed closed at night, was insignificant compared to how Kurt’s cheeks flushed whenever Blaine laughed Kurt’s name. The heat in their loins was aching, but neither man did anything, for how could the other feel the same?

The sun petaled down on them, dropping elegantly on Kurt’s pale skin and comfortingly against Blaine’s tanned. Kurt’s laugh travelled down the hill side, mixing in the air with Blaine’s. He didn’t know what was so funny, what he had said in order to hear that beautiful sound. He didn’t have to know what it was: he had made Kurt happy, and that was enough.

They had taken a different route, but they arrived in the field, as they always did. This time, they were in the northern section, a place they rarely went, which was covered in lilacs of every shade. Kurt danced nimbly through them, and Blaine swore he grew more elven every day.

Kurt’s dance slowed, and a graceful hand extended from his nimble body, sparkling in the direct sun. Blaine smiled and glanced from Kurt’s hand to his eyes, before he caught on to what was happening. “Oh no, I can’t.”

“I thought elves loved to dance? I’ve seen you do it often enough.” Kurt’s tone grew higher nearing the end of the sentence, light and airy. A challenge.

“We do but…”

“Come on. What are you afraid of?”

_Falling in love._

Blaine shuffled forwards, the flowers gossiping at his feet. It would be so easy to turn back, to walk back to where he came. To go back home, and back to how things used to be. But even Blaine knew it was months too late for that.

Kurt’s hand felt cool in Blaine’s, but it warmed at his touch. Kurt pulled Blaine closer, almost too close, despite the fact they shared a bed at night. They shared so much, but a dance felt so different. A bed was a bed, a meal was a meal, and joke was a joke, but a dance was something more.

Kurt’s hand wrapped around Blaine’s waist, settling on the small of his back. Blaine placed his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. Their eyes locked, Kurt’s blue flame tied with Blaine’s yellow.

“There’s no music,” Blaine whispered, his words frail.

“Then we’ll make some.”

The leaves were the guitar. The crackling trees, the drums. The flowers played piano, and the birds sang the lyrics. Blaine joined in and so did Kurt. Soon, their hearts became the rhythm, pounding steadily, slightly off-beat, but merging.

Blaine’s eyes never left Kurt’s. They couldn’t. If the gaze broke, then the world fell. It was that simple.

Kurt’s hand lead Blaine closer, and his body complied. As they moved, their bodies brushed, sending shivers of excitement through them both.

 “Kurt.” Blaine’s voice didn’t break the song; it joined it.

“Blaine.”

Those two words spoke more than millions ever could.

Blaine stopped moving first, and Kurt followed but didn’t complain. Their arms stayed in place as the world froze around them. The wind tickled Blaine’s cheeks.

“Why today? Why here?”

“I think you know.”

Blaine’s eyes watered but not with tears. He flicked them shut. And waited.

The softness of Kurt’s lips was like falling into a ground of cashmere. Blaine’s hand squeezed Kurt’s and Kurt’s squeezed back. Instinctively, Kurt’s lips parted and he let Blaine in. This wasn’t a kiss; this was the beginning of a promise thousands of years old.

They fell into a bed of lilacs and the giggling faces soon fell into expressions of soft absorption. Blaine’s eyes searched Kurt’s face, photographing the rosy glow of the setting sun on Kurt’s skin. Kurt was all Blaine could see. As their lips met, his heart seemed to agree, thumping _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt_.

If two people fall in love in a forest, and no one is around to hear, do they make a sound?

~~

Blaine had never been naked in front of another, but in Kurt’s eyes, he didn’t feel exposed. Kurt had been dressed hundreds of times, but Blaine’s gaze wasn’t judgemental; it was soft, amazed, inspired, adoring. For the first time in his life, Kurt felt beautiful.

“Are you sure?” Kurt gasped, their hips rocking in a way he never knew could feel so good. Blaine was a squirming mess beneath him, his skin flushed red as his body writhed.

“Please, yes, yes….”

Kurt prepared him slowly, whispering soft promises against Blaine’s lips as he soothed him through it. He didn’t know feeling like this was possible. Kurt had always been told he was selfish, but all he wanted, all he ever wanted, was to keep Blaine like this: loose and desperate and pulsing with pleasure.

Once it was done, Kurt carefully set himself between Blaine’s legs. They were trembling, both of them, and he knew Blaine was desperate for a reassuring kiss. Their lips met in the middle and Kurt rubbed his hip. Blaine finally relaxed and finally decided it was time to let someone love him again.

Gasps, panting breaths, grunts, groans. Kurt nearly pulled out when Blaine’s face crumbled, but Blaine kept him in. Slow. Breathe. Pant. Kiss. And stop.

Their sweat glistened in the twilight, but time was irrelevant. Blaine’s hands searched Kurt’s back as Kurt kissed the marked spot on his collar bone.

“Perfect,” Kurt exhaled against his skin.

And it was.

~~

Their bodies were curled up together, limbs melting into one, under the blankets on Blaine’s down bed. Their breathing was even and soft, brushing against each other’s faces. But slowly, Kurt began to twist and tumble as his dreams began to scream.

The tide was coming in, faster and higher, waves spinning as they crashed into the rocky walls that surrounded them.

Kurt was drowning: no water, but lack of air. He sank deeper and deeper, his eyes wide as he was forced to watch the chaos around him. His body was frozen, suspended in time like in jelly.  There was nothing he could do, nowhere to go. He had been running for months, but they had caught up.

Kurt woke with a start, sweat thick on his eyebrow. The elf slept peacefully beside him, unaware of the storm that was coming. He knew what he had to do. Kurt brushed the curls back from his beautiful boy’s forehead. Blaine’s face was warm and a contrast to Kurt’s clammy hands. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the elf’s lips. He watched as the corners of Blaine’s mouth subconsciously flicked up before he slid out of bed.

Kurt had to get out before the waves swallowed Blaine too.

~~

Blaine didn’t see Kurt for weeks. The sun rose and set, and every set of footsteps had Blaine’s smiling face rushing to the door. Each time it fell, just slightly, before he politely greeted whatever animal or pixie it may be. He saw many faces, but none had the same rosy glow of pale skin in the setting sun.

He must have done something wrong, Blaine decided as the second week came to a close. The night they had spent together had been beyond Blaine’s fantasies, beyond the life he could have ever imagined. Kurt’s body, pressed close against his, warm and comforting. Their breaths dancing through the air, a waltz that increased with their hips. Blaine’s hands raking down Kurt’s back, craving more and more. Their cries filling the air like a symphony. And their eyes locked, never disconnecting, until Blaine released and they connected deeper than ever before.

Blaine must be terrible at sex. That was the only explanation.

It was a bitter night and Blaine’s tea kettle was ringing when a knock finally came to his door. Midway through pouring his tea, Blaine looked up, and his toes began to tip toe to the door. He didn’t peak through the window, but opened it in haste. There, standing in the dark, was Kurt’s rain stained face.

Their eyes crackle and yell, screaming words of adoration at each other while their bodies stay frozen still. A pause, a beat, and then—

“Kurt?!” Blaine’s voice was a gasp of surprise and confusion, but the tone of delight couldn’t be hidden.

The spell broke, and Kurt pushed his way in, his hands on Blaine’s biceps, his eyes sharp yet sweet.

“Blaine. Blaine, listen to me. I’m sorry I left but—but my father, he wanted me to marry and I didn’t--- so I ran and I ran and I. I found you.” The words came out in a rush, but the last words shifted, Kurt’s voice becoming soft, as if one poke would make him cave. A crease pressed its way between Kurt’s eyebrows, and his intense gaze never once left the elf.

“I… I made tea.”

Kurt’s mouth fell open, either in frustration or disbelief, but then he was laughing and Blaine was laughing and everything felt right again, even if it wasn’t.

Blaine slid a mug across the table and Kurt cupped it in his hands. Blaine blew over his own, his eyes peeping from over the steaming drink. Kurt’s gaze was down, his finger circling around the rim. “I owe you an explanation.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Blaine answered, and he meant it. He had waited years for Kurt. He could wait again.

Kurt took a deep breath, one, two, three, and exhaled. Then, he began.

“My father is a lord who wanted me to marry for riches. He sent me suitor after suitor and I denied, so he found me one.” Kurt scoffed at the memory. Blaine stayed quiet. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry them, I didn’t want to marry _period_. Marriage was meant for love, but I never saw it. Not in marriage.” His finger circled the wedding band mug. “Father disagreed. He pushed and pushed and I fought back until I realized he would never budge. So I left. I was in such a rush that I didn’t check what I was doing. I fell, and you found me. I stayed with you for as long as I could but I knew they were looking. I had to go back, I couldn’t let them—I was halfway home when I realized my mistake. With them, I had security and riches and what I thought was a home. But with you, I found so much more.” Kurt’s eyes finally met Blaine’s. “I found… love.”

Blaine’s fingers tingled and he had to set the mug down. His heart had relocated to his ears. His stomach was filled with butterflies and his toes froze on his feet. His lips itched to speak, and words fell out easily, as if he had been waiting to say them all along.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”

Blaine laughed, he couldn’t help it. It was relief that Kurt’s home, joy that Kurt was his, fear for the future and a release of the past. Blaine didn’t have to stop, because Kurt soon joined in. They moved to a hug, clinging onto each other as laughter became tears.

But it was happiness that filled the home with warmth again.

~~

_Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn_ _and back again_. _The plants die in winter, but love flourishes year round._

Blaine soon learnt Kurt loved to decorate. Their cottage was always filled with flowers, fresh herbs, and patterned cloth that Kurt made and never let Blaine attempt. The one time Blaine had tried, his hands were blue for two weeks.

While Kurt dyed, Blaine created an ivy barrier around the cottage. He made the surrounding area look abandoned. A few elves made a home a half a mile away. Blaine let them in. As they chatted around the table with tea and cakes, Blaine realized how wrong he had been for all those years. He had had friends all along. He just had to open his heart.

No one else knew where they lived.

After a few years, they disappeared completely, an abandoned cottage in the name of freedom and adventure. They loved the forest, so this was where they stayed. The forest was their sanctuary and home. It was a place of care of joy. It was the bed of their love. Two boys, once lonely, were lonely no more.

Maybe someday Blaine and Kurt could fix the dividing laws. Maybe they can, maybe they can’t, but they can try.

But for now, the rising sun, the twinkling stars, and the lilac fields would be enough.

Like two daisies in a field, they’d grow together, their lives tangling from roots to flower, reaching for the sun.


End file.
